Blood Prophecy Page 49


“Shit,” Logan swore. “Incoming!” he yelled to the others.

“Not again,” Lucy said, whirling to face them. Her first crossbow bolt caught the closest one in the chest, right through the heart. He crumbled into pieces and disintegrated. His companions scuttled through his ashes, snarling and undaunted. They smelled blood and battle and Solange’s pheromones. They’d never stop coming.

“I need to dreamwalk,” I said, despite the danger all around us.

“What, here?” Magda asked. “Now?” She whipped out one of her daggers. “Little busy.”

“I still need to get into Solange’s mind. And for that, I need to be touching her and she won’t let me do that until we get the collar on her. But I never got Lucy’s blood for immunity.” I withdrew the copper collar Logan’s brothers and Christabel had stolen from the Hel-Blar.

Made of beaten copper and glimmering like trapped firelight, it was smooth and simple and curved like a half-moon. The collar was powerful, and even after Kala and I had both examined it thoroughly, we still weren’t entirely sure how it worked. I was taking a risk by using a magical item that might not be dependable, and judging by the foul look Magda shot me, she realized it too.

“You don’t need my blood,” Lucy piped up. “You’ve got me.”

I grabbed her wrist. “Then let’s go.”

Magda gave a twisted, screeching kind of laugh and leaped at the Hel-Blar. Logan followed, distinctly less enthusiastic, but then I’d seen rabid dogs with less enthusiasm for violence than Magda. “Guys!” he shouted at his brothers. “A little help here?”

But they couldn’t help him. They couldn’t even help themselves.

Because Solange was awake now.

She lifted her head, pupils flaring, the whites of her eyes bleeding out in red rivers. The twins stumbled, cursing. “Let me go,” she said softly.

“Don’t!” Lucy shouted.

But it was too late for warnings and they wouldn’t have done any good regardless.

“Let me go,” Solange demanded again. “Now.”

Logan was safe from Solange’s pheromones but he was also too busy fighting off Hel-Blar. I felt the pull of her power as well. Charlemagne moved across me, leaning his considerable weight across my knees to stop me from getting closer. Luckily, I was still far enough away to retain some sovereignty over myself.

“Take my nose plugs—” Lucy stopped. “Damn it, I gave them to Christabel.”

They might have helped but they weren’t a perfect shield. I swayed toward Solange but at least my feet stayed rooted. Between Charlemagne and my own magic, I could buy myself a few more moments. The twins weren’t so lucky. Quinn was already slicing through the thick ropes that bound her. Sweat dampened his hair as he struggled uselessly to fight the compulsion. Connor kneeled next to him and snapped the handcuffs apart. Constantine was trying to get to her and Kieran was just as determined to stop him. The twins stood, hovering beside their sister, straining on invisible leashes.

The Hel-Blar continued to advance.

Solange rose to her feet, like something out of the fairy stories my nursemaid told me when I was a child. Her hair was black as coal, her lips red as blood. Even her dress floated around her as if compelled.

Constantine backhanded Kieran and sent him sailing over our heads. I ducked before his boot could graze my temple but kept running, dragging Lucy behind me. She made a small strangled sound of surprise. Quinn and Connor moved to block Solange. I’d have to get through them to get to her.

“Can you take them?” Lucy asked. “Without killing them?”

“Oui.”

“Without them killing you?”

“I am not so easy to kill.” I handed her the copper collar, which she looped over her wrist like a large bracelet so that she could keep a grip on her crossbow. Her eyes widened suddenly and I knew Constantine must be behind me. Charlemagne was already leaping at him. Constantine dodged, but only barely. He had vampire speed, the kind that comes from being ancient. If he reached Solange before we did, we wouldn’t be able to start the ritual. And Logan’s brothers might die.

I spun on my heel to face him. My dogs raced down the street toward us, leaping the fences and skirting around trees. Constantine went low and I leaped high, avoiding his strike. I landed with a stake in each hand, braids and beads rattling like bones.

“We just want safe passage,” Constantine said. His accent was vaguely British, clipped but charming.

Charming didn’t work on me.

I didn’t waste time with idle talk, only threw one of my stakes. He danced out of the way but not quickly enough to avoid it entirely. It sliced through his side, under his arm, as he turned. His blood stung the air, hot and metallic.

Solange shrieked at the twins.

“Kill the witch!”

Chapter 19

Lucy

Things weren’t exactly going according to plan.

Big surprise.

Logan and Magda started to sprint toward Isabeau, Hel-Blar at their heels. “Non!” she told them even as Quinn and Connor did the same thing. Her tattoos looked very blue against the moonlight and snow. “Dans un cercle!” she ordered the dozen or so dogs milling through the snow. She pointed at Solange and they lunged for her. Quinn went down under the weight of a Rottweiler, knocking Connor down with him as he fell. The dogs paced a circle around Solange. Logan and Magda went back to fighting Hel-Blar.

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